Thirst
by Strawwolf
Summary: Bellamy and Clarke are trapped together in cell in foreign territory. Unfortunately Bellamy has been turned into a vampire. Fortunately Clarke's willing to be a blood bag for him so he doesn't die. Unfortunately Bellamy's being a stubborn butt and refuses to drink her blood. How will they both survive?
"Bellamy you have to feed."

He sat against the cell wall, curled in on himself as if he were trying to disappear. There was just enough torchlight to make out the sweat on his brow, damp curls plastered to his head.

"Leave me alone Clarke."

His voice cracked as he forced out the words. She could hear the waver, the exhaustion he was trying so hard to hide.

"As long as we're stuck in here I can't do that."

He shook his head and turned away, folding his arms around his legs, willing his heart to stop racing. How long had it been? Hours? Days? Time passed differently without the sun and he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept. He'd tried but there was that slowly growing itch in the back of his mind that he couldn't ignore. This would have been so much easier if they'd put her in a separate cell.

Clarke balled her hands into fists and grit her teeth. Why did he have to be a stubborn ass now of all times? It was going to take both of them to get out of here and instead he was shutting down. The longer they were stuck down here the more desperate their situation became. If she didn't do something soon they were both going to die of thirst, although in Bellamy's case it would be because he was an idiot. So instead of giving up she crawled over and crouched down in front of him.

"You heard what they said. If you don't feed you'll die." She laid a hand on his arm in reassurance that he wasn't alone in this. That's when she noticed he was trembling. "Bellamy?"

Her eyes widened and he simply shrugged her off. No one had said anything beyond how to stave off the hunger, unwilling to listen to Clarke's pleas that she hadn't been bitten.

"Just get away from me," he whispered, eyes squeezed shut, his face contorted in pain.

For a moment her hand hovered before she slowly retreated back towards the opposite wall. "Are you…does it hurt?" She didn't know how to help him apart from what he'd already refused. It left her feeling helpless and a little angry.

"Stop. Just stop talking."

Bellamy laid his head against the cool stone of the cell. He tried to ignore the constant thump-thumping in his ears and the smell coming from the cut on Clarke's head. He felt nauseous and with every breath the cell grew smaller. If he could he would have clawed his way out rather than spend any more time trapped alone with her. Because all he really wanted to do was 'drink deep' as the Marshlanders had accused. After all this time he really had become a monster and it was going to get her killed. So instead he focused on making himself small, on retreating into himself, only existing for the next moment as the air around him grew close. In truth he was suffocating and every time Clarke spoke he could feel her blood tempting him closer. There was a burning behind his eyes and his teeth ached like a cold drink from a glacial stream.

He'd tried covering his nose so he wouldn't smell her but it had been a terrible decision. It only urged the ache onwards until he could practically taste her, invading all his senses. And then she'd touched his arm. Like a firebrand to fuel, it was taking all he had not to grab her and find the nearest artery. He ran a shaky hand through his hair as he tried to remain calm.

"Bellamy," Clarke glared at him.

She knew how dangerous her proposition was and she didn't care. She wasn't going to risk losing him. Not again. Their capture had taken them both by surprise and in the midst of the shouting and pushing and accusations, she'd understood enough to know that his 'animal bite' meant he needed to drink blood and soon if he were to survive.

"Look, I know you don't want to do this but we don't have any options. If you feed we can focus on getting out of here. And when we get back to Arkadia we can talk to Lincoln and see about a cure."

Tired and angry, he turned and finally looked her in the eye. Didn't she realize what had happened? "Clarke you can't fix this. You can't fix me!"

She shook her head and started to take off her jacket. She needed him in this with her, needed him to fight because that bubble of panic was starting to burble away in the back of her mind. She'd never liked being helpless and the feeling had only increased since they'd reached the ground. There was no way she was going to let him die on her and she knew she could be just as stubborn as him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Alarmed at her actions Bellamy crowded even further into the corner.

"Saving your life." She pulled aside strands of hair and tilted her head, exposing her neck.

He stared for a moment at her bare skin as if entranced before shuddering and shifting to turn his back to her.

"Bellamy you can't just…I can't lose you." She grabbed his arm, trying to make him face her.

"I'm already lost." He wrenched out of her grip, growling in frustration as he stood, retreating as far as he could to the other side of the cell.

"You'll die!"

"So what!" He rounded on her, filled with a rage that frightened even him. Every word, every breath was pushing him closer to the edge of something he couldn't yet name. He clenched his hands into fists, nails digging into flesh.

She felt her breath catch in her throat at his admission, horrified. Tears threatened at the corner of her eyes. She could feel her throat closing up. "How, how can you say that?"

He stared at the cell door. "They're willing to let us both die in here Clarke. I don't think there's any coming back from this."

"We don't know that. We don't even know what happened to you."

"I know this isn't normal."

He winced and lifted up his shirt. Dried blood and inflamed skin surrounded the vicious-looking bite. Black veins spiralled outward like so much webbing from a spider. Originally it felt like an arc of fire had pierced him, burning from the inside out. That pleasant feeling had been accompanied by lengthy periods of unconsciousness. Fortunately breathing was no longer an agony and the pain had dulled to a point where he could tolerate it, just barely. None of it had stopped Clarke from being pissed though. They hadn't even let her try to treat him before shoving them in the cell.

"Then we can figure it out together." She took a step forward and held out her hand.

Bellamy shook his head, knowing whatever the outcome, it would be bad. Clarke in her infinite wisdom ignored him.

"Why won't you just let me help you?"

"Because I'll probably end up killing you," he muttered.

She gave him a pointed look. "I don't believe that. And neither do you."

"Then I guess we're stuck because I'm staying over here and you're staying over there." He glared, practically daring her to act.

But Clarke had already made her decision. In one smooth movement she reached up and pulled her fingers across her head wound, coating her fingers in blood before she surged forward and tried to grab Bellamy's jaw. If she could just get her fingers in his mouth but he was ready for her, grasping at her wrists, turning his head away as she tangled their feet together. She only managed to smear her blood on his lips as they fell as one towards the ground in a thud that knocked the air from Clarke's lungs. She gasped for breath like a fish on land, her body held to the ground by his weight. In an instant he froze, his grip tightening as he realized what she'd done, the scent of her blood enveloping him.

She could feel him panicking, his eyes widening, his hands holding her hard enough to leave bruises. He tried to wipe the blood off on his shoulder, feeling an itch in his gums as he was suddenly able to see Clarke with stunning clarity as if in full daylight. She tried to clear her throat but her mouth was dry.

"I meant it Bellamy. I trust you," she croaked out.

He was panting now, as he fought to unclench his hands, letting her go as she scrambled out from under him. Before she could retreat very far though, his hand snapped out and grabbed hold of her. He brought her bloody fingers up to his face and gave Clarke a long look, his face contorted with indecision.

"I might kill you."

"You won't."

He snorted. She really shouldn't trust him. He knew he didn't want to hurt her but how could he promise anything here and now when he didn't understand the extent of what had happened to him? Could he really keep her safe from himself? One look at her face told him she wasn't going to let this go, no matter how much he protested. He only contemplated it for a minute. Knowing the risk he was taking he sighed, giving in to her relentless faith and optimism.

"Tell me when to stop. And if I don't, you do what you have to, okay?" He looked her right in the eye.

"Bellamy."

"Promise me," he tightened his grip.

She nodded in assent and watched as he slowly brought her fingers to his lips and gave them one long lick before pulling them into his mouth. She tried not to stare but couldn't help it. His face had a look of such ecstasy on it as he started to suck, his tongue licking her from nail to knuckle. Clarke couldn't deny the moment caused that familiar flutter in her belly, heat pooling between her thighs as he moaned around her fingers. The noises he was making with his mouth and the low-key growl in his throat were more than enough to make her flush bright red.

When he was finished he leaned back against the wall, eyes closed, his hand still clenched tightly around hers as he felt relief for the first time in three days. The discomfort had subsided and Clarke…she looked just as affected as he was, judging from her expression. For a moment they simply sat, recovering from the moment they'd just shared before she broke the silence.

"It's not enough is it?"

He let her hand fall. She knew it wouldn't sate him. A few drops did not a meal make. But he wouldn't look her in the eye. Instead he just stared at his feet before giving a slight shake of his head. Sighing, she slowly stood and gently grabbed hold of him. The smallest tug brought him up to her as she backed into the wall, pulling him along until he was crowded around her.

This was new territory for them. Trust and faith had been a staple between them but there had always been a comradery that separated them, kept them as allies, friends even but nothing more. This moment felt like a threshold they were both being forced over. Clarke pulled up his hand to gently cradle her head, sliding his arm around her back as she exposed her neck. She felt a wave of fear flush down her spine before pushing the instinct away. She knew he wouldn't hurt her so instead she waited.

Bellamy felt her tense in his arms, as if the gravity of their situation had finally reached her. He wouldn't blame her if she changed her mind. But she didn't pull away so he started to stroke her back with his fingers, giving them both a chance to adjust. She looked up, their eyes meeting as she gave him a small smile. He would have returned the expression but with the scent of her blood heavy in the air he could feel the fangs in his mouth extending. Sensing hesitation she brought her arms around him in much the same manner as he was holding her, a signal that she wasn't going anywhere.

Slowly he dipped his head down to her neck, lips brushing the skin for a moment before he bit down, puncturing her skin. She gasped, hands bunching the back of his shirt, digging into his curls. She could feel blood trickling over her collarbone as he started to lap up the blood welling out of the wound, his tongue tracing intricate circles on her skin. His grip tightened as he held her in place, his world narrowing to encompass only Clarke and her delicious blood. The more he drank though the more urgent his actions. He eventually sealed his lips over the bite, sucking directly from the source, filling his belly.

For Clarke it was like drowning in reverse. She was floating upstream and all she could think about was how warm he was. For a moment there had been pain but it receded with every beat of her heart as she closed her eyes, her fingers digging into his hair, her nails scratching at his scalp. She had expected it to be unpleasant, not this heady, breathless moment.

The cell was silent but for her occasional gasps and his very animated rumbles of satisfaction. He pushed into her, grunting with every gulp as he panted into her neck, holding her up as the seconds ticked into minutes.

"B-Bell," she breathed, her arms weakly pulling at him.

He retreated at her signal, lingering as he licked up the blood trailing down her collarbone, still stuck in the haze of bloodlust. She shivered at the feel of his tongue leaving a wet stripe down her chest. He licked his lips, eyes flicking to the bite that seeped blood before looking up to her face.

Smiling in reassurance she swayed in his arms, slightly dizzy. He lowered the two of them to the floor and they sat, leaning against one another for several moments before he spoke.

"Thank you."

She smiled, sighing deeply as she leaned into his shoulder and grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers. Together she'd said and she'd meant it.


End file.
